


Gunpoint

by Sagartolen



Series: Whumptober2019 collection [1]
Category: Mystery Skulls Animated
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood and Injury, Ghost Lewis (Mystery Skulls Animated), Injury, Kidnapping, Misunderstandings, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pre-Ghost (Mystery Skulls Animated), Threats of Violence, Tumblr Prompt, Whump, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:48:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24735661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sagartolen/pseuds/Sagartolen
Summary: Arthur gets in trouble while on a case with Vivi..(Reposting of Whumptober2019 ficlets originally written for Tumblr.)
Series: Whumptober2019 collection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1788607
Comments: 6
Kudos: 87





	1. Dragged away

**Author's Note:**

> You can find my full list of Whumptober2019 stuff [here](https://pi-cat000.tumblr.com/post/188709822487/its-almost-halloween)

One would think, what with all the supernatural bullshit he’d been through, Arthur would try harder to stay near Vivi and Mystery when out on a case. But, no, he doesn’t, because he’s an idiot and has to learn these lessons the hard way. Arthur stares at the gun pointed straight at the space between his eyes and nose, making him go almost cross-eyed. Its’ owner, a sandy-haired man spotting a roughed up and patchy business suit, looks to Arthur expectantly, waiting for a reaction.

“Well, have to say,“ The stranger starts, "It wasn’t easy tracking you peons down, what with you lot driving all over the place. But, finally, at long last, I’ve got you.”

The man’s eyes flash a bright neon green which definitely isn’t normal and has Arthur’s neck prickling with discomfort. _Was this some sort of supernatural creature? H_ e and Vivi had come across several creatures who liked to disguise themselves as humans during their travels and extended search for Lewis. However, Arthur didn’t think he’d made much of an impression on any of them. Not enough on an impression that they’d feel inclined to follow after and target him anyway. _But, hey, with his luck, he shouldn’t count it out._

”…You wouldn’t believe the hassle it was getting out of that stinking, rotting piece of disgusting flesh…“

Arthur clears his throat, interrupting the rant, trying to keep his tone neutral.

“Have we met before?” 

He doesn’t want to get himself accidentally shot in a case of mistaken identity. Best to try and clear this up as quickly as possible, or stall until help could arrive. The crazy, possible supernatural creature, hesitates and squints at him.

“Oh come on, it’s me!” A wide gesture with its free hand, “Surely, you remember my voice at least.”

Arthur shrugs to keep things casual, keeping his hands up above his head in a gesture of surrender. 

“Sorry man. I don’t know who you are. Maybe you have the wrong guy?”

A scoff and another appraising once over, “Wow…that’s cold. Thought I would have left more of an impact, but maybe I’m wrong.” Crazy guy rubs his chin with the hand not holding the gun in thought.

Arthur is about to say more, maybe try and talk his way out of the impending shit show, but never gets the chance. Unexpectedly, in between verbal complaints, the crazy man lashes out in one surprisingly fluid attack. The gun, which had been hovering a few inches from his face, swings around to bash him over the side of the head. The action is so quick and unexpected that Arthur has no time to react or dodge. Cold metal meets with his temple, and he stumbles to the side and right into the wall of the narrow alleyway behind the fast-food rest stop. 

"Oh well.”

Arthur bearly registers the words with his head swimming in pain and sudden dizziness.

“Guess it’ll give me something to do while I wait for the mutt to come save you.”

A knee… _or maybe it’s a boot_ , wallops him in the stomach, taking the rest of his breath away. Arthur slams into the concrete, wheezing. _Not good, not good! Can’t breathe!_ Is what his brain unhelpfully confirms while he curls into a protective ball and gasps pathetically. However, there are no further hits. Instead, Arthur feels a hand grip the back on his shirt, dragging him partially up and then over the ground along his back. The hold puts pressure on his windpipe, and he grips the fabric about his neck to release the tension, twisting in a panic.

“Hey, stop squirming,” The crazy man orders, and his green eyes flash with irritation, “Or I’ll knock you out, or shoot you, or something equally painful.”

Between the blow to the head, kick in the stomach, and now choking, Arthur’s having trouble following the other’s words, too preoccupied with staying conscious. He can’t breathe. Arthur flails, uncoordinated and desperate, coherent thought fading alongside his vision.

“All this anticipation and you don’t remember me…what a letdown.”

The way his shirt twists under his orange vest, bunching and pulling, completely cuts off his oxygen. He kicks out, using one hand to scrape uselessly at the concrete. The further he is dragged, the tighter the fabric gets, his shirt riding up and pulling, cutting off his breath completely.

“Hey!”

“What did I say about the squirming?”

Arthur ignores the order, gasping, grasping at his neck. His vision is dimming, swimming about, light blending. His battle against the encroaching dark is a losing one.

Abruptly, the crazy man stops and the pressure is released. Arthur gasps loudly but doesn’t have much time to enjoy his renewed ability to breathe. When the pressure releases, his head drops, smacking against to concrete. Maybe, if he hadn’t just be chocked and hit over the head, the smaller impact would have been minimal. Unfortunately, the blow is enough to send him straight into unconsciousness. His vision whites out and the noise around him dissolves.

……………..

….

.

  
Arthur fades in and out of coherency, thoughts muddled and confused. Everything hurts, his back and neck especially, like he has turned into one big bruise. His arms are oddly heavy, twisting at a weird angle so his fleshly one is completely numb. 

The first thing he registers properly is the feel of an engine running. Occasionally, the area around him jolts abruptly when the vehicle hits a pothole. The bumpy ride does nothing for his head which throbs and aches in several locations.

Disorientated, Arthur squints up at the spotted light streaming in through the car window. Outside, trees are rushing past. For a second, Arthur struggles to remember where he is and why he’s asleep in a car. W _hat happened to the van?_

“Vivi?” He mumbles, trying to boot up the rational side of his brain.

“Ha. Guess again.”

Arthur’s eyes widen, adrenaline jolting him into a state of readiness. He spasms awkwardly, finding his attempt as sitting thwarted by his restrained arms. The jerky movement _does_ inspire a wave of renewed pain and nausea though.

“Welcome back…was worried I’d accidentally killed you. You humans, so fragile.”

Arthur processes the fact that he is lying on his back in the backseat of a smaller-sized car. Upfront, he can just make out the profile of the sandy-haired stranger. _Oh…shit. Right._ His memories return, causing his stomach to sink. He’d been kidnapped by a crazy, supernatural, person/creature. _This…is not good._

Carefully, Arthur tries to move his arms. He can barely feel his flesh and blood one, which tingles with the start of pins and needles. They are both secured behind his back with a set of tight metal bands. Handcuffs. There is a similar set fastening his ankles together. Arthur wiggles around so he is lying on his side, facing the front seat, trying to see out the window. All he sees is forest and trees which grow close to the road, obscuring the sun. No wonder the road is so bumpy. They’re probably on some dirt track in the middle of nowhere. 

“Where am I,” He croaks. His throat is dry so he’s probably been out for a few hours.

The man in the front glances back and grins, green eyes flickering, “Suppose with the memory loss you wouldn’t recognise the road. But you have been here before.”

Arthur grits his teeth. _Not this again._

“I told you I don’t know who you are. Look, you’ve got the wrong person. If you just let me out here, I’ll be on my way and you’ll never see me again.”

His reasoning falls on deaf ears. The man just laughs, “Haha. Trust me, you are exactly the Arthur Kingsman I’m looking for.”

“I don’t know you,” Arthur snaps, straining his neck to get a look at the doors. They are locked, but it’s not like jumping out of the moving car is a good idea with his hands and legs bound.

“Oh, I’m sure, if you search around that skull hard enough, you’ll find a significant bit of space missing. Perhaps, it involved a good friend who mysteriously vanished, and was seen again. That ring any bells?”

Arthur freezes, and dread creeps in amongst the pain and fear, “How do you know that.”

No, he stamps the dread down. Everyone in Tempo knew about Lewis’s disappearance and his and Vivi’s memory loss. If creature, whatever it was, was targeting him, then who’s to say it hadn’t been to Tempo and heard one of the many rumours circulating about him.

“I told you. We’ve met.” A smug smirk, like the man is in on some hilarious joke, “So just sit tight. Things are about to get…interesting.”

It’s hard to stop his stomach from churning. Arthur’s dealt with crazy people before, but this one is putting him on edge. Maybe, it’s because Arthur has felt first hand just how violet this person could get, his neck and back still hurt. 

Yes, that must be the source of his growing fear. 


	2. Don't Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: 'Don't move' and 'Adrenalin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the tumblr versoin in the following posts found: [here](https://pi-cat000.tumblr.com/post/188384525322/whumptober-no12-dont-move) and [here](https://pi-cat000.tumblr.com/post/188418435897/whumptober-no13-adrenaline)

The dirt road twists and turns, taking them up the side of a forested mountain. The further they drive the more anxious Arthur grows. Arthur has been camping a fair few times and is no stranger to the wilderness. However, he is not confident enough in his survival skills that he thinks he can navigate a densely wooded area with no equipment or preparation. The more trees between him and freedom, the harder escaping was going to be.

Arthur cranes his neck, leaning against the car door, trying to spot the sun. It's evening, judging by the sky’s pale pink tint and the dimming light. Last he remembers, it had been morning, so around eight hours had passed since his abduction. Vivi would definitely be worrying and searching for him now. Not that she would know where to start looking. This kidnapping seamed almost random save for the creep somehow knowing his name. 

Arthur attempts to push aside a discomfort that has nothing to do with his sore neck or aching back. _What if he never returns?_ What if he vanishes and Vivi is left alone, wondering where he went for the rest of her life? _Just like Lewis…_

“Hey!” Arthur raises his voice to catch his crazy kidnapper’s attention, ignoring how it hurts his throat, “You never said why you wanted to abduct me so bad. Why me?”

A chuckle, and a hand reaches up to adjust the rear-view mirror so Arthur can see his captor’s two green eyes.

“Thought I told you to sit tight?” The man answers with a patronising chortle. Arthur takes a second to note how the other’s eyes are ringed in dark circles like this person hasn’t had a good sleep in days. When also considering the dishevelled clothes, patches of dirt, and slight odour, the man doesn’t appear to have washed or bathed either. It creates a disconcerting disconnect between the man’s eyes, full of energy and mirth, and unkempt body. Arthur recoils into the seat’s upholstery. His flinch getting him another snigger. _Okay_. _Maybe this isn’t a shapeshifter._ The revelation does nothing to soothe his fear.

Arthur is forced to shelve this uncomfortable discovery for later contemplation when the car comes to an abrupt stop. The sharp movement has Arthur nocking his head against the door and almost getting thrown from the seat. He lets out a pained groan.

“We’re here,” The man sings out, making to exit the car, turning back to pin Arthur with glowing eyes. They seem bright and increasingly fluoresce now, glowing in the dim twilight.

“For your own good…. Don’t move,” Is ordered before the man takes two casual steps out of view. Arthur, ignoring the instruction, immediately twists around to peer out the window the second that man has his back turned. He squits out at the scene, his vision burred after his most recent blow to the head.

His kidnapper stands motionless a few feet away, waiting. Before them is the gaping entrance to a freaky-looking cave which burrows into the side of a steep cliff. The tunnel is so dark that it could almost be a tangible wall of black.

Arthur shivers. He really doesn’t like the wave of déjà vu tugging at his thoughts. What if he _had_ been here before? What if the crazy man is _right_ and this place is linked to _that_ night?

One thing for sure is that he does not want to stick around to find out. Quickly, tests the cuffs, pulling his writs apart, trying to manoeuvre them down and around his legs. The cuffs are too tight, chaffing at his skin, and Arthur isn’t flexible enough to make the action work. With mounting urgency, Arthur begins searching in earnest for some way to break the chains. He doesn’t get very far because movement near the cave entrance catches his eye. A purple fog has wafted out from the dark, drifting across the ground in a finger-like manner. Arthur pauses in his thrashing, inching up to get a better view. _There is no way that fog is natural._

“Oh please, save the theatrics for witness tourists. I have good news,” Arthur’s abductor complains, loud enough for him to hear. Unconcerned, the crazy man is eyeing the development with disinterest.

Purple fog swirls in response and condenses onto a larger shape. Slowly, it solidifies into a humanoid. Flames alight along the ground and in the air, pulsing unnaturally, growing steadily brighter. Arthur eyes the nearest ball of floating fire, alarmed. _Shit_ …that was spirit fire, only, he has never seen it this strong or so much of it before.

Just inside the cave entrance, Arthur’s worst fears are confirmed. The fog and fire finish condensing into pale, skeleton-like being who towers over the smaller, second figure of his kidnapper. Arms crossed, eyes glowing a dark purple, this creature does not look happy. Arthur finds himself half-frozen, wounding just how screwed he was.

 _A ghost? Is that a ghost?_

Arthur is unsure because he has never seen one so solid looking before. All he has as a reference are encounters with the rare wisp on occasions when the supernatural stuff Vivi investigated happened to be real. This creature is completely different, made of solid shadow and fire.

_Perhaps it’s an elemental spirit?_

“What do you want?” The skeleton-ghost-monster-creature grumbles, voice vibrating in the air without an obvious source. It glares down, visibly irritated by the man’s presence. Of course, this green-eyed looney has decided to go bother a powerful fire spirit. O _f-freaking- course_. And here Arthur is, stuck, unable to escape, watching in the back of this stupid car with his arms and legs bound.

Despite the show of aggression, the shorter man only huffs, unafraid of the monster he’s pissing off, “There is no need to be rude. And after everything I’ve done to help. Where’s the appreciation?”

A growl. “I don’t count you’re useless rambling as help.”

Three smaller spirits in matching shades of pink and purple materialise along the larger ghost’s shoulders to glare. Great, more supernatural creatures. Hey, maybe the big ghost will get rid of his kidnapper, not notice Arthur watching in the car, and he’ll make an uninterrupted escape attempt. W _hy does that feel like wishful thinking?_

“Ugh, no, no. You have it all wrong,” The man waves a dismissive hand, “They’re motivational rambles, not useless. Motivational! Don’t you always feel motivated after our chats?”

The ghost burns a little brighter, floating forward, forcing the other figure back, “If you’re here to insult me with more ‘motivation’ then you better leave. Now.” Fire crackles, punctuating the order.

“Oooh, scary…Have you been practising?”

There is a slow threatening growl, and all the smaller ghosts hiss.

“Kidding! I’m just kidding,” The man continues, louder so he can be heard over the rumbling, “Geez. You’ll be happy to know that I’m not here for a chat. Not this time.”

Slowly, the next sentence is delivered with deliberate emphasis, “Do you remember that deal we made way back when?”

The fire ghost hesitates in its aggressive approach. Now Arthur’s vision has cleared again, he can see how its glowing eyes have narrowed in suspicion.

“Well, guess who just fulfilled their side of the bargain …” Arthur can hear the bastard’s smile as he sings the line.

This obviously means something important because the ghost stiffens and the fire pulses, becoming more erratic. Before Arthur can even think to process this development, those glowing purple eyes have snapped up to look straight past his crazy kidnapper and towards the car. Arthur doesn’t have time to duck down, meaning they make immediate eye contact.

A bright flash of magenta light and fire erupts over dirt, spiralling outwards. There is a deep ominous rumble from the ghost as it moves deliberately forward, pushing roughly past the second man who stumbles to the side. 

_Oh shit._

Adrenaline spikes, hitting Arthur like a sledgehammer. Arthur throws himself to the opposite side the vehicle, trying to shoulder check his way to freedom. He only succeeds in giving himself a sore shoulder. Frantically, he attempts to pull his arms free but the cuffs don’t budge, keeping his hands firmly tied behind his back. _Shit!_

Metal screeches, making Arthur wince, and the door opposite him is ripped free to frame the furious ghost who leans into the opening, glaring. Up close, the fire spirit is a hundred times more menacing, and, despite the excess energy, Arthur’s limbs lock up momentarily in fear.

“You,” The ghost grows, echoey voice laced with anger.

“Me?” Arthur squeaks in response, pushing himself back against the door. The escape attempt proves fruitless when a large hand reaches in, gripping the front of his shirt. An attempt at mule-kicking the appendage away is easily ignored. Arthur, riding high on adrenaline, wiggles about, determined to not go down without a fight.

“Traitor! You’ll pay for what you did.”

“What did I do!” Arthur objects, voice high pitched. He realises quickly that this is the exact wrong thing to say. Fire spreads around them, dancing over the ground, running down the ghost’s arms to his shirt. The area around him is slowly increasing in temperature, growing unbearably hot.

“What did you do!?” The repeated question is punctuated with Arthur being slammed back against the car. His neck snaps back, giving him a renewed sense of vertigo.

“You killed me!” Is yelled right in his face.

“No!” Arthur gasps, pulling at his cuffs which bight at his wrists, “I don’t even know who you are!”

“Who I am?… _WHO I AM!”_

Arthur is smashed into the car again. This time, when his head snaps back, it connects with the metal surface of the car. Lights explode behind his eyes accompanied by dizziness.

_**“WHO ELSE WOULD I BE!”** _

By this point, everything has gone all fuzzy and the sound around him is warping, making the words difficult to hear. The fire is suffocating, burning his throat. Forget his neck and back, everything hurts now.

“Ahem,” An amused voice cuts in from the side, “if I may interrupt this touching reunion, but I believe the deal was that we keep him alive long enough to act as bait.”

For a moment everything is still and all Arthur can hear is the pounding in his head. Then the fire around him recedes an inch and Arthur is suddenly dropped. He hits the dirt next to the car like a sack of potatoes.

“That’s …” The ghost hesitates, anger abating, “Yes…Right…”

Arthur groans, trying to curl up and protect his head, “I didn’t…kill…anyone.” _This had to be a case of mistaken identity. If he could just make them listen!_ At least the dirt is cold, offering some relief. 

“Got… wrong person…” He mutters to the ground.

There is a long pause before, “What’s wrong with him,” is snapped. Their voices are growing more distance now and Arthur realises everything around him is growing increasingly dark. It’s not the natural dark of nightfall either.

“Aside from the obvious physical injuries? Did I forget to mention, dear old Arthur is telling the truth about not remembering you.”

A harsh, “What.”

“He really doesn’t remember killing you. Got a case of the old trauma-induced amnesia I’d say.” It’s the last thing Arthur hears.


End file.
